


Wants and Needs

by Bluethenstaub



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Blindfolds, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Dominant Aziraphale (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Gags, M/M, Sex Toys, Strap-Ons, Trans Male Character, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 04:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18684343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluethenstaub/pseuds/Bluethenstaub
Summary: Aziraphale's eyes were fixed on Crowley, blindfolded and gagged, bend over, shivering in anticipation of what was going to happen.It was breathtaking.





	Wants and Needs

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

"It's not?"

"No," the demon breathed. This wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he needed.

"When you said you wanted to spice things up in the bedroom, I thought-"

"I know. Don't get me wrong, Aziraphale. This isn't what I wanted. I didn't know what I wanted. But it's what I want now."

"Oh." The angel smiled. "Good." Aziraphale's fingers played with the merchandise he had bought earlier today. "So, what do you think? Shall we move over to the bedroom?"

"Hm? Bedroom?" Crowley grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. "Why don't we stay right here?"

"I'm still in business hours."

"You're the owner of the blessed shop. You can close it whenever you want to."

The angel looked flustered. "My dear, I certainly can't. What if a customer..! What if it's an emergency..?"

"You hate customers," Crowley said and took off his shoes. "You know these arcade fighting games I told you about? Whenever a customer appears, you're a character in those. And then up, up, left, right, left, up, down, KO. You win, the customer goes."

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes before shaking his head. "You're not making any sense, dear boy."

"All I'm saying is that there is no way that there's an emergency. Just close the door." Crowley took off both his pants and his underwear at the same time. "Or I'll do it for you. And I'll make sure that everyone walking by takes a peek inside and sees me."

"Stay here," Aziraphale ordered and left the backroom.

Crowley had to grin and made himself comfortable on the couch _. It works every time_ , he thought to himself, eyeing the things on the table. He was very curious what they're going to do with it.

He heard Aziraphale coming back.

"Don't move, my dear," the angel said, and Crowley stayed the way he was, sitting on the couch, with his back towards the door, legs crossed, arms thrown over the backrest.

The world went dark for him as Aziraphale used his tie to blindfold him. For once, Crowley approved of the ugly tartan tie. But it could have been any colour and any pattern, Crowley wouldn't care right now.

Aziraphale's fingers wandered over Crowley's cheeks and found their way into his hair.

It was not an unwelcome tension as Aziraphale pulled his hair back, leaning down to place to kiss on Crowley's nose.

His lips wandered over Crowley's face, placing countless butterfly kisses on his skin to finally find Crowley's own lips.

Way too soon, Aziraphale pulled away. "Stay where you are," he whispered. Crowley heard him walking through the room, heard the ruffle of clothes. He didn't dare to move even a finger, he even held his breath.

Aziraphale returned to the couch and lowered his head again till their faces were almost touching. Crowley was able to feel Aziraphale's breath on his lips. "Anthony, my dear, do you have any wishes?"

Crowley shivered. "No, I don't," he answered, expecting a kiss for confirmation, but Aziraphale pulled away.

"Now, then what will we do?" Aziraphale mused and walked over to the table. "I think I have an idea. That's why I bought it for, after all. My dear, would you mind sitting properly?"

"I am sitting properly!"

"No, you aren't."

"I'm sitting as proper as one of your dandy boys from the nineteenth century."

"Anthony, kneel down on the floor."

Crowley swallowed. He knew when he can play and when he has to play along. He slithered down on the floor.

"There, that wasn't that hard, was it?" A hand found its way into Crowley's hair and petted him. "You should be like that more often."

"I'm sorry," Crowley answered.

"You don't have to be," Aziraphale said with a warm smile in his voice. The hand wandered over to Crowley's cheek. "Just stop opposing me all the time, do you understand?"

Crowley nodded.

"Good boy."

Aziraphale's thumb nudged against Crowley's dry lips. It didn't need any words for Crowley to open his mouth and to suck on the thumb finding its way inside. "You should see how beautiful you are," Aziraphale breathed. "So beautiful and no one but me will ever see it."

Aziraphale shivered. He could feel the wetness between his legs. The way Crowley looked, blindfolded, sucking on his thumb, was almost enough to bring him over the edge. "You're so beautiful when you suck on my fingers," he repeated. "I almost don't want to do this..." With a soft plop, he removed his thumb.

Crowley whined.

"Hush," Aziraphale ordered. "Open your mouth."

Obediently, Crowley opened his mouth only for Aziraphale to put the ball gag from the table into it and to fasten it behind his ears.

"Is it alright, dear?" He asked and Crowley nodded. A shiver went down Crowley's whole body. Not to be able to see anything, not to be able to say anything, is something he had dreamed about for a while now, and it was finally happening.

Aziraphale knew. Maybe it didn't always seem that way, but he always got it when Crowley dropped some hints about sexual experiences he wanted to explore.

"Oh, how beautiful you are," Aziraphale whispered with the passion of a pilgrim finally arriving at the statue of his favourite saint. "If you could only see yourself right now."

He took Crowley's face between his hands and pressed a kiss on his forehead. He helped Crowley up, only to turn him around and kiss the back of his soft hair.

Crowley pressed himself against the angel.

"Not so impatiently," he said. His hands wandered over Crowley's body, feeling the soft scars on his chest, the scars Crowley didn't need to have but had anyways - scars which Aziraphale could also wear, but unlike Crowley he preferred the softness of his chest-, giving his nipples a pinch.

Crowley moaned in response.

One of Aziraphale's hands wandered down his body, scratching over Crowley's stomach, down to the patch of hair between his legs.

Crowley was equally wet as Aziraphale. Good.

Aziraphale took a step back and hit the coffee table with his legs. He didn't care. His eyes were fixed on Crowley, blindfolded and gagged, bend over, shivering in anticipation of what was going to happen.

It was breathtaking.

Aziraphale took the strap-on from the table and put it on. This part was nothing new to either of them, neither the harness nor the dildo, pressing against Aziraphale as if it couldn't anticipate filling Crowley, either.

"Maybe I won't do anything," Aziraphale thought to himself loudly. "Maybe I should get dressed again and leave you here. To find out how much patience you have to wait for something that might or might not come."

Crowley whined.

"No, my dear, you're right," Aziraphale said, "There's no need to punish you today." With a finger, he checked the wetness between Crowley's legs. "You're already soaked, after all. You're so needy and only I can give it to you."

Crowley's moan was muffled by the gag as Aziraphale entered him, of course, that's what the gag was for, but to Aziraphale, it didn't sound any less lovely.

Aziraphale leaned forward to Crowley's ear. "You should let your hair grow out again," he whispers. "It's way easier to pull it that way."

Crowley hummed in agreement. He felt Aziraphale's warm body against his, heard and felt the rhythmic thrusts, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but somehow always as fast as Crowley needs it to be.

Aziraphale's fingers move over his clit, this beautiful, perfectly manicured fingers, yet so rough from touching old papers and parchment. Crowley loved these fingers for longer than he can remember.

They always managed to push him over the edge.

"Perfect," Aziraphale hummed, in the afterglow of his own orgasm. "You did perfect, Anthony. Exactly as I needed you."

Crowley can't smile yet, but he will, as soon as Aziraphale had removed gag and tie, and miracled them clean.

 _Yes, you are perfect_ , he thought as they cuddle on the couch _. And you know just what I always need._


End file.
